


Challenge Four: Exposed

by Pornalot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pornalot, Pornalot 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7898242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pornalot/pseuds/Pornalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entries for the fourth Pornalot weekly challenge: Exposed</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the porny entries for week four of the Pornalot fest! 
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/6980.html)

Entry 1

 **Notes/Warnings:** I'm going with 'exposure' being totally an interpretation of 'exposed' … and paradoxical undressing really is a symptom of advanced hypothermia.  
**Pairing** Merlin/Arthur

Arthur blames the soft snow and the howling wind for the fact that he doesn't hear Merlin drop his pack, doesn't realise they're down half their gear until it's too late to go back and find it all. After Merlin starts shouting at him, he figures out that the problem isn't that he's a 'stupid, fart-faced clotpoll' - it's that Merlin's hypothermic. He pushes Merlin ahead of him on the trail and starts to pick up the pace even more, figuring that the best thing to do is get down off the mountain.

It's when Merlin starts taking his clothes off that Arthur gets really worried. 

'Okay, we're stopping _now_ ,' he says, and grabs Merlin by the hands before he can pull his shirt off too. 

'We've got to get back,' says Merlin, trying to yank himself away. 'Arthur, stop - I'm boiling in all this stupid gear!'

'We've still got one tent, we're going to use it,' Arthur snaps at him. He manages to hook Merlin's down jacket from the snow with his boot and pull it towards them without letting Merlin go. He shuffles both of Merlin's wrists into one of his hands, shrugs his pack off, and fishes for the tent. Thank god he sprung for the pop-up kind. He wrestles it out of its bag, still one-handed, and tosses it into the air. In a few snaps and twists it turns itself from a Frisbee into a place to sleep. Arthur barely waits for it to stop rocking before he pushes Merlin into it, and his jacket after him. 

He crawls in last, dragging his pack in finally, and zips the thing up. Then he fishes for his sleeping bag. 

'Get in,' he says, shoving the thing at Merlin. 'I said _get in_ ,' he growls when Merlin looks like he's going to baulk. 

'Fuck you,' says Merlin, but he's trapped and he knows it. With bad grace, he unzips the sleeping bag out like a blanket and kind of wraps it around his shoulders. 'It's too _hot_ ,' he whines, but he's shivering. Finally, a good sign. Kind of.

Arthur pulls off his own jacket and shirt and basically blankets Merlin with his body, pulls the sleeping bag around both of them and, well, he can't quite zip it up, but, he wraps it as tight as he can, Merlin squirming between his thighs. 

'Get off, Arthur,' Merlin says, wriggling. He's gone a shade of red Arthur can't parse, not until Merlin's twitching ruts him up against Arthur's hip. 'Arthur -'

He's hard. And Arthur, God help him, Arthur has thought - but he's had to not - and he should back off, he really should, but Merlin's skin is still so goddamn cold and clammy. He needs to warm up and the only source of heat is Arthur. So he digs his knees into the groundsheet and lifts his hips up, but keeps Merlin pinned.

'Well this is fucking embarrassing,' Merlin mutters.

'Shut up, Merlin,' Arthur says, but there's no force in it. 'If we just - look, we just need to get you warm again, and then we can - it'll be like it never happened.'

'Nothing _has_ happened,' Merlin says wretchedly. 

For a minute, there's the only the howling of the wind outside. 

'Do - do you want … something to happen?' 

Is that what the wind sounds like when it's wuthering? Arthur always wondered about that. It almost drowns out the sound of Merlin saying, 'Maybe? Do you?'

'If I did, now would be a bloody stupid moment to do anything about it,' Arthur points out, but he can hear himself and he doesn't exactly sound certain. 

Merlin pulls his hands free, because Arthur's lost his grip in more ways than one, and wraps them around Arthur's hips. 'It would warm me up.'

He's … not wrong. 

'This is a bad idea.'

But Merlin has his hands in Arthur's stupid tramping trousers and when his fingertips brush Arthur's cock that's it, that's all she wrote. It's like they both snap, and for five minutes the tent's rocking hard with more than just the wind, as they grind into each other furiously, ripping at the rest of their clothes, until they're in a cocoon of hi-performance fabrics and Merlin's teeth are fastened somewhere on Arthur's throat. The stinging pressure lights up every nerve ending he has. 

'Fuck, Merlin,' he breathes, grabbing Merlin by the hips and hauling him up tight so they're slick and sweating against each other. 'I want you so badly.'

'So have me,' Merlin groans. 'Years, Arthur, years of doing all these stupid outdoor fucking pursuits with you - '

'- when we could have been doing this -' Arthur interrupts, sliding a hand between their bellies.

'Please tell me this isn't you misunderstanding first aid,' Merlin gasps as Arthur takes hold of their cocks. 'Please, Arthur, when we get down off this godforsaken mountain I'm gonna want you to fuck me in the chalet -'

'I'll fuck you anywhere you want,' Arthur growls, and Merlin's eyes roll back in his head and he comes hard, twitching and spurting and making everything between them molten hot, soaking wet across their skin. Arthur's breath catches hard and he comes like an avalanche, and everything goes white. 

***

When they wake up the snowstorm has passed, and Merlin's like a furnace crushed up against Arthur's side. 

'Guess you're not a stupid, fart-faced clotpoll after all,' Merlin murmurs into Arthur's throat. 'And you're not that bad at first aid, either.'

 

 

Entry 2

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

“You don’t pay attention to anything in this office,” Merlin says.

Arthur scowls at his PA, continuing to type on his keyboard. Merlin should be answering phones, or whatever else Arthur pays his scrawny arse to do—which is definitely not taunting.

“That’s absurd,” Arthur replies. “Shouldn’t you be more productive? I can give you more work.”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “I already do everything around here.” With his palms on Arthur’s desk, he leans over the monitor. “And what I said before is true.”

Merlin may be a lazy twat of a PA, but there are moments when, despite his cow-licked hair and perpetually clueless expression, he’s… cute. With only Merlin in the office Arthur has, reluctantly, begun to enjoy his company.

Arthur catches himself staring at Merlin’s mouth, a fraction too long. He clears his throat.

“You’re so dense, Arthur,” continues Merlin in a sweet voice. “Dense. As. Dirt.”

“That’s insubordination,” quips Arthur, a smirk on his lips.

“Big word there, Sir. Careful you don’t cramp your brain.”

Sighing, Arthur pushes Merlin’s head away from his screen while handing Merlin his empty cup. “Less chat and more tea. Now.”

Shrugging, Merlin takes the cup. “What if I can prove you don’t pay attention to what goes on around here?”

“I’ll raise your salary,” says Arthur dryly.

Merlin walks to the doorway, cradling the cup. The mischief in his expression doesn’t sit well with Arthur.

“Challenge accepted,” Merlin replies. “I'm changing one thing about this office, one, and if you can’t guess what it is by the end of the week… I win.”

***

When Arthur arrives in on Monday, nothing’s out of place. Merlin’s desk is its usual mess, Merlin nowhere in sight, probably fetching coffee. The plants are watered, his voicemail taken care of. 

Arthur settles into his seat, cracks his knuckles, and dives into work. It isn’t until mid-afternoon that Merlin makes an appearance.

“I scheduled that flight you wanted,” chimes Merlin’s voice in the distance.

“Good,” Arthur grumbles, not looking up. He continues typing, aware of Merlin’s light breathing. For some reason Arthur can’t comprehend, Merlin hasn’t left the room.

Finally, Arthur looks up at his PA, who’s standing at the edge of Arthur’s desk, as close as one can get without tumbling over it. 

“Can I help you?” Arthur says, raising an eyebrow at Merlin. 

Merlin plays with his hands. He’s a bit flush, and there’s a strange expectant look on his face. 

“I…” He pauses, looks at his hands again. “You really haven’t noticed it yet?”

“Noticed...what?” replies Arthur.

Merlin chuckles. “Nothing. I’ll… get that hotel booked for your trip now.”

Arthur mutters his assent, looking down at his keyboard. By the time he looks up again, Merlin’s vanished.

***

The rest of Arthur’s week follows in a similar fashion, Merlin’s behavior getting stranger and stranger. He’ll enter Arthur’s office, always when Arthur is mid-project, hovering as close to the front of the desk as possible and stare at Arthur, with a bashful look on his face that Arthur can’t figure out the meaning of. By the time Arthur looks up from whatever he’s working on, Merlin’s gone. Again. 

***

By Friday evening, even Merlin’s had enough of his game. 

“Are you kidding me!” he blurts, leaning over the desk to physically snatch Arthur’s keyboard from him. 

“Huh?” Arthur replies, like the brilliant executive he is. 

“Arthur.” Merlin puts the keyboard aside, pinches his brow. “Please. Tell me this is a joke, that you’re messing with me right now, or letting me down easy.”

“Letting you…” Arthur looks at Merlin’s earnest expression and the heat in his cheeks. Merlin’s either horrendously embarrassed or pissed at him. But more importantly, Arthur can’t understand what Merlin’s yammering about.

“You still haven’t figured out what I’ve changed?” Merlin asks.

Oh. That. Arthur had completely forgotten about that wager. He sits back in his chair, takes a visual inventory of the room in a desperate attempt, but… no. Nothing seems out of sorts, besides his PA. 

Shaking his head, Merlin starts to laugh and then stops. With the look of a man facing a firing squad, he rounds the desk and faces Arthur.

Arthur’s eyes widen. He grips his armrest. 

“Merlin,” he exclaims, feeling a flush rise up his chest, surprise and… dare he say… excitement constricting his voice. “You’re… you’re not wearing any trousers?”

Merlin’s laugh is long and self-deprecating. “Arthur, I haven’t been wearing them all week.” 

Arthur scrubs a hand across his face. Seeing Merlin standing before him, all lithe legs, pale skin and… 

“Are you… some kind of nudist?” he says feebly. He doesn’t want to offend Merlin, truly, but can’t wrap his head around what he’s seeing. How much he likes it. 

“No, you clotpole,” Merlin says. “It’s not a lifestyle. I… maybe I meant it when I said you don’t pay attention to anything in this office, and by anything I meant…” Merlin shakes his head, and Arthur swears his bottom lip quivers as he says, “Maybe the thing I want you to pay a bit more attention to is, well, me.”

“Merlin.” Arthur stands up instinctively. “How could you think… I didn’t mean to make you feel like your contributions didn’t matter, that you didn’t matter. You matter to me a great deal.”

“Yeah?” Merlin says. He raises his head. 

“Would you like me to show you how much?” 

Merlin makes a hopeful whimper as Arthur steps into his space. He meets Merlin’s eyes, and says, “Honestly, I figured you more of a yfront’s type of man, but commando suits you.”

Nodding, Merlin looks Arthur up and down. “Was hoping it’d help me claim my prize.”

Arthur smiles back. “It’s yours. Anything. You’ve won fair and square.” 

With tentative touches, Merlin’s fingers skim Arthur’s waist, the small of his back, sliding inside Arthur’s trousers and under the elastic waistband of his pants. 

Arthur shudders and falls into him with a groan. 

Their kisses are frantic, messy. Papers fly, and the keyboard topples, until there isn’t a shred of clothing left between them.

As Arthur crawls between Merlin’s parted legs on the desktop, taking him gently in hand with spit-slicked strokes, he asks, “Now, you’re sure this is the kind of raise that you want?” 

Merlin huffs a laugh, arching, his head falling back as Arthur takes him deep into his mouth. 

For once in their relationship, Arthur’s found a way to make his PA speechless. 

 

 

Entry 3

 **Warnings:** S1, urination, wetting, shame, incontinence, h/c, past corporal punishment of a child.  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

Being cursed with a weak bladder, Arthur always made sure to use his chamberpot before meetings. But sometimes the council was summoned on a short notice, like today's emergency meeting regarding the disease spreading in the lower town. The discussions had lasted for hours before Gaius informed them it wasn't the plague.

By then Arthur was sweating in his seat, determined that when he became king, he would have servants on chamberpot duty for council meetings, just as for banquets. He'd had plenty of liquid for breakfast, thinking he was heading for the training grounds. If his bladder decided to let go now, it wouldn't just be a leak, but a real flood.

As soon as Uther dismissed them, he was off. But just as he turned around a corner, he crashed into two kitchen girls carrying a vat. It fell on the stone floor, and the water inside washed out in a great gush. Arthur's bladder tingled at the sight.

He ran. Knowing he wouldn't make it outside, let alone to a privy, he hurried down a flight of stairs and ducked into a dark corridor. He leaned against the wall and fumbled with the laces. His cock was already leaking. He swore to himself as the seepage became a stream, getting on his fingers and dribbling along his shaft into his groin. 

He got his cock out and his piss splashed against the wall and soaked the earthen floor. Eyes closed, he sagged, overcome by a relief so great it was like pleasure. For a moment, the embarrassment was forgotten, because nothing in the world was as good as finally surrendering to the tingles, to the loss of control.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't alone. Outlined by the light from further up was Merlin. Arthur's stream faltered, but there was a lot needing to come out, and it started again, flowing until he was empty. He shook his hardening cock - he always got a stiffy after an accident - and winced as he was forced to tuck it back into the wet, chafing smallclothes. 

He was cold, as though his body was already sinking into the icy waters of contrition to scrub, scrub, scrub away the shame. 

He was saved from the humiliation of having to explain himself by Merlin's disappearance. 

Arthur followed after a lengthy pause. 

When he returned to his chambers, Merlin was waiting for him with a bath. Arthur sighed at the sight of the tub, but he knew he'd brought it upon himself. He undressed quickly, then saw the chamberpot that Merlin pushed towards him.

"Better do it before you get into the water," Merlin said, as disappointed as he'd been the time Arthur killed the unicorn.

They stared at each other and Arthur let his gaze fall. Obeying came as natural as breathing. He grabbed his cock. 

Before he could aim, Merlin cleared his throat. "I have to wipe up your spill all the time. I thought you were just a poor marksman, but apparently you just don't care. Do you find having others clean up after you _thrilling?_ "

Arthur hunched his shoulders, making himself as small as he could as Merlin's voice joined those other voices, from before. Tears began to chafe behind his half-shut eyelids.

"In the future, just piss sitting down," Merlin said, exasperated. "And aim your cock inside the pot, not next to it!"

Arthur squatted over the pot, knowing he deserved this. Not only for leaking in the first place, but for the weird pleasure he took in it before the wrongness of it overcame him.

Merlin was staring at him, arms akimbo, and nothing came. Arthur thought of the water whooshing over the floor earlier, and that did the trick: as if by magic, the small quantity of piss still in his bladder sizzled against the pewter. 

Arthur remained squatting after he was done. To his great surprise, Merlin looked baffled. It occurred to him that he shouldn't have obeyed. He rose. He wasn't the only one: his cock was jutting out shamelessly from his groin.

Pretending not to see it, Merlin helped Arthur into the bath. There was a blush on his cheeks as he picked up the bath sponge. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what came over me. I've had such a bad day."

"What happens to the Prince if he wets himself?" Arthur asked, shoulders rounded as he hugged his knees. His mind was still stuck in that weird place between past and present.

Merlin dipped the sponge. "What did you think would happen?" It was a genuine question, if his puzzled expression was anything to go by.

"If the Prince wets himself, he has to take a cold bath," Arthur recited.

Merlin frowned, waiting for more. 

"And afterwards, the King has Nurse tie the tip of the Prince's willy with a string," Arthur continued, reliving it all in his mind. "He says that if the Prince can't keep his pee in on his own, he'll have to wear it all the time." 

Merlin's eyes widened. 

The silence spread and spread between them, like one of Arthur's puddles. Then, at last, Merlin spoke. His voice was warm; as comforting as a big, soft towel. "I promise you that you'll never, ever get anything tied up by me," he said. "And I think you prefer warm baths, don't you?"

Merlin was speaking to him like an adult comforting a frightened child; like no one had ever spoken to him after he'd made a disgusting nuisance of himself. Arthur wasn't too sure he deserved it.

"You're going to sit down and pee to make sure everything gets inside the pot," Merlin continued, his eyes so kind. "And if you need to go when on a council meeting, you'll give me a sign and I'll find a way to get you out. All right?"

Arthur dared to smile. He nodded.

 

 

Entry 4

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Lance

Merlin turned the doorknob in slow, millimetre increments, so Lance wouldn’t hear. He slipped in quickly, faster than the dim light from the main room, and closed the door behind him, leaning back against the wood.

Lance hadn’t looked up, so focused was his concentration. Merlin watched him work, one side of his face illuminated in a strange red light. He held a pair of tongs in one hand, dipped in a tray of sharp-smelling chemicals, and his lips moved in a silent count, eight, seven, six…

Behind him, strung up on a thin line, hung most of a reel of film in developing photographs. The light was poor, and they were difficult to make out.

“How are they looking?” Merlin asked, and he found his voice soft and restrained in the darkness of the room. Lance turned his head quickly, shocked out of his count.

“Merlin, how did you get in?” he asked. Merlin came up close to him and rested a hand on his chest, careful to avoid his gloved hands.

“Carefully,” Merlin promised, sliding past to look at the photographs closer to. They were black and white, almost soft focus with the glowing light. The subject matter appeared candid, but not explicit, a series of beautiful boys in their underwear, or carefully covered in sheets. Lance turned back to his work and lifted the next sheet out of the chemicals, pegging it up with the others. This one was Merlin, the image coalescing slowly on the page. He was wearing lace-edged boxers and looking away from the camera, reclining over silk sheets. Merlin found himself reaching out to touch before he remembered the chemicals.

He could barely believe that the image before him was what Lance saw when he looked at Merlin. Not all the time, of course. Not when he was sick or annoyed or breaking out, but when the light hit him right and he he’d just fixed his hair, perhaps. Merlin knew he could be skilled and smart and valuable, but beautiful was an adjective he saved for Lance.

“Do I have your approval?” Lance asked, starting work on another image. Merlin nodded, still too astounded for words. He moved down along the line, looking at a couple more of him in different poses. Next was Gwaine, his defined muscles stretching beautifully as he reached for something just off the sofa. The light even glinted off his hair. And then a group shot, Arthur and Gwaine together leaning against white pillows, looking at a magazine. One of Arthur’s legs was flung over Gwaine’s, and their shoulders were nudged together. Merlin bit his lip looking at it. And he felt bad about it, because it was meant to be Art with a capital A, but his heart sped a little and the resulting blood rushed to his dick.

“Hey,” Lance said, “You’ll see them properly when I’m done, promise.” Merlin turned and looked at him, and he smiled slowly.

“I’m still wearing the underwear,” he said. Lance’s eyes widened, and Merlin couldn’t help his grin.

“I’m working,” Lance complained.

“Working on hot guys,” Merlin said, stepping in close to him, “One of which is your boyfriend. You can take a break.”

Lance smiled and stepped in close, crowding him back against the door.

“What do you expect me to do? I’ve got-” he wriggled his fingers, showing Merlin the rubber gloves.

“That’s okay,” Merlin said, smiling a little slyly now, “Put your hands behind your back.”

Lance frowned and did as he was told, and then he watched as Merlin slid his hands down his own stomach, down towards his jeans. He undid the button and slid his jeans down off his hips, displaying red lace boxers. Lance gasped a little and stepped closer. Merlin’s dick was a little thick already, pressing against the soft fabric of his pants. He ran his hand down the line of it, turning slightly to the side to let Lance see it fill. Lance gasped as Merlin tucked his fingers into his boxers and pushed them down, putting himself on show, hard and bouncing against the elastic.

“Merlin,” Lance moaned. Merlin took him by his belt loops and tugged him in close, undid his jeans and pushed them down. He trailed his index finger down the tented line of his old, frayed boxers.

“Why do we never get any photographs of you?” Merlin asked. Lance fidgeted a little under his touch.

“You put your finger over the lens last time you tried.”

“Self timer?” Merlin suggested.

“Next time.” Merlin shoved his pants down quickly in reward, taking hold of his dick. It felt hot and soft and wonderful, and Merlin had to get him closer. He held onto Lance’s hip and tugged, pulling Lance flush to him, catching both their dicks in one hand to stroke them together. He wasn’t interested in making things last, thumbing over both of their heads in one go. Lance trembled next to him, hands clasped firmly behind his back. Merlin worked him steadily but firmly, leaning in to kiss him open and thorough. Merlin closed his eyes and thought about pretty boys, and about Lance’s muscles under his fingers, about somehow getting his arms and his chest and his gorgeous lips on film.

Merlin’s fingers tightened and he bucked up against Lance, moaning into the kiss as he came. His fingers stilled after that, but Lance was close, rolling his hips into Merlin’s fist until he recovered. Merlin twisted his wrist, licked Lance’s lower lip again, and Lance spilled over into his hand. Lance staggered back, catching himself against one of the shelves and looking up at Merlin.

The look on his face, frank and open in his amazement, was enough to take Merlin’s breath away.

 

 

Entry 5

 **Warnings:** dub-con. There are mentions of ‘youth’ but this is not underage.  
**Pairing:** Gwen/Morgana

Morgana stripped Gwen from the waist down. It was clinical, designed to be as detached as possible. 

“Do you play with yourself?”

She looked up and saw Gwen close her eyes, shy and maybe even a little embarrassed. 

“Yes. Sometimes. A little.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know? It’s good for you. Helps your development along.”

Morgana runs her gloved hands along Gwen’s thighs. Good and strong. Shapely. Her calves were toned, also lovely in shape. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. She trailed her hands back up to Gwen’s rear. Firm, with good muscle, but still soft. 

“What about your arse?” Morgana asked.

Gwen seized up a little under Morgana’s hands. “No! I would never!”

“Calm down. It’s not something to be ashamed of. How do you know what you like if you never try?” Morgana was tempted then, to show Gwen that it could be good. But that wasn’t Morgana’s role. She was just here to appraise. “Please turn around,” she said. 

Gwen did without hesitating. A good sign. Morgana felt her tummy, used her hands to measure her waist, judged the texture of her pubic hair, cupped and felt the weight in her breasts. Gwen was quite perfect, in most ways. Perhaps Morgana could bid for her? She probably wouldn’t win, but she could try. Imagining having Gwen in her employ, warming her bed, always ready for her . . . 

“Please lie on the bed now, knees apart.”

Again, Gwen responded without delay. She managed to make the act of climbing into a bed look elegant. She lay back and showed signs of embarrassment by closing her eyes and breathing too heavily. She opened her legs, knees falling to the sides of the bed. Morgana took notes, made sure to document her flaws as well as her features. 

“I will touch you intimately now,” Morgana said. Gwen nodded slightly but kept her eyes closed. This part was always the hardest for the girls. They all knew it was coming, but some of them resisted more than others. Morgana had done this hundreds of times, always detached and scientific in her approach. For the first time, she felt something stir inside as she took the lubricant out of the warmer. 

She smeared a small amount on her fingers and started her assessment. Labia still taut with youth she noted as she drew it aside and watched it return to shape. The entrance to Gwen’s vagina was tight enough, warm and wet inside. She made another note. Clitoris soft but firmed up quickly when touched. Responsive. 

Morgana returned to Gwen’s vagina and pressed her finger inside, followed by another. She moved them in and out a few times, watching Gwen closely for any reaction. Nothing, really. A small sigh, slight increase in the colouring on her chest. She used her other hand to apply pressure to Gwen’s clitoris at the same time, moved them together and became more insistent. That provoked more of a response. Gwen’s breathing increased and her vagina tightened. Morgana pause to make some more notes and decide the best approach. Gwen struck her as submissive, needed a firm hand. 

“Would you prefer the dildo?” she asked. “Or my hand?” She was tempted to offer her mouth, but that was outside of policy. 

Gwen opened her eyes for the first time since she opened her legs. “Your . . . your hand.”

Morgana smirked. It’s what she thought (and hoped) Gwen would say. 

She changed her position so she could curl her fingers, and used more force this time, made sure to give Gwen contact with her palm each time she eased in. Gwen was freer now, quickly warmed up inside. Morgana used her other hand on Gwen’s clit to bring her off completely, felt her contractions through her whole arm.

Morgana’s own breath was laboured. Her forearm ached. 

“You did well,” she said, careful not to display favouritism. She withdrew her hands and removed the gloves. She turned back to her clipboard and noted the time, Gwen’s preference, and how long it took to bring her to orgasm. Very impressive. 

Morgana took one more look at Gwen, eyes roaming over. 

“Feel free to use the showers,” she said. “Please make your way back to reception when you are done.” 

Gwen gave her a shy dimpled smile in return. Morgana almost added it to her notes but decided against it. This one she would keep for herself.

 

 

Entry 6

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

Merlin opens himself with three fingers while Arthur sets up the camera and fetches the plate. He can’t look--if he looks, he’ll fumble something for sure--but he can hear the obscene squelching, his lover’s heavy breaths. He tries not to let it distract him.

Arthur himself is also naked, his cock throbbing as he carefully removes the plate from its box and slides it into the camera; then at last he hurries to the chair where Merlin is sprawled. “Fuck,” he says throatily at the picture Merlin makes; his lover just grins at him, blissful and wicked. “Come on, we have to get into position.”

“About time,” Merlin breathes as he rises. “I need you in me immediately.”

Arthur sinks into the chair with a groan, and the moment he’s settled there, Merlin is in his lap all lithe and lightly sweating, sinking down onto his cock. “ _Bloody hell_.” 

Merlin laughs, then gives a satisfied moan as he takes Arthur all in, wriggling his arse down as far as it will go and making himself comfortable. Then he tips his forehead against Arthur’s, his breath sweet and hot on Arthur’s face. “You feel so good there, love. You should always be filling me up like this.”

“Fuck, don’t say such things,” Arthur pants back. “We have to stay still for the exposure.” He curls one hand around the nape of Merlin’s neck; the other he rests on Merlin’s thigh. “Now, the lens cover.”

Merlin’s lashes flutter and his eyes glow gold; a moment later Arthur can hear the cover clatter to the floor. “How long?” Merlin pleads; his cock is already leaking between them.

“Until I say so,” Arthur replies.

They stay that way, still but for their breath panting into the humid space between them, for several long and torturous minutes. Arthur tries not to focus too much on how desperately he wants to grasp Merlin by the arse and pound up into him, how perfect the wet slide through that hot, silken sheath would feel; he listens to the tick of the clock in the corner, tries to match it up to the pulse of blood in his cock. Then Merlin, impatient devil that he is, slowly clenches his muscles around Arthur. “ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur growls, and a smile flickers across his lover’s mouth.

When Arthur slides his thumb slowly up the side of Merlin’s leaking cock, the smile turns to an open-mouthed whine. The whine becomes a warbled “oh, oh, _oh_ ” as Arthur’s thumb circles the head, presses carefully at the slit. “ _Please_.”

“The cover,” Arthur breathes, and Merlin’s eyes go gold immediately; after a few tense moments of concentration, he lets out a breath.

“Done,” he moans, then plants his hands on Arthur’s shoulders and his knees on the chair and commences riding Arthur like a bloody polo pony. Arthur wraps a hand around Merlin’s cock and strips it rough and fast in retaliation, and Merlin throws his head back with a shout. “ _Oh_ , yes, yes, that’s good, that’s good,” he babbles, scraping a hand down Arthur’s chest to twist his nipple.

All at once Arthur is teetering on the precipice; he breaks out in a sweat and he knows his skin is blotched with red. “ _Merlin_ ,” he grinds out, chasing, _tipping_ \--

He comes trembling and groaning out obscenities, eyes open so wide the light of the room almost hurts. Merlin bounces more desperately on his cock, wringing it down to the last, weak spurts, and Arthur wraps a trembling arm around Merlin’s back. Merlin sobs when Arthur lets go of his cock, then whimpers when he slides his hand up Merlin’s taut stomach and sweaty chest, pressing him back to change the angle. When it hits just right Merlin screams, guttural and pained, and spends all over his stomach; Arthur strokes him through it gently as he shudders, grunting at the vise of Merlin’s body around his sensitive cock. 

Slowly they slump back together, exhausted. Arthur drifts in and out, sated and drowsy, until Merlin heaves himself up and off the chair and Arthur’s cock slips limply out of him. “Come on,” Merlin murmurs against Arthur’s temple, laying a soft kiss there. “The plate.”

“Yes,” Arthur agrees, and allows himself to be pulled to his feet.

Later, they curl up in bed both turned to face the nightstand, where the daguerreotype stands propped. Merlin presses warmly up against Arthur’s back, stroking his arm with gentle fingers as they study the likeness. Arthur is captured all down one side, the muscles of his arm and thigh and calf all straining, his fair hair blending with Merlin’s dark curls where their foreheads touch. Merlin straddles him, the delicious curve of his long spine leading the eye up to Arthur’s fingers caging his neck, and down to Arthur’s cock buried in his arse. Their heads are turned away from the camera, faces intimately close.

“It’s beautiful,” Merlin murmurs, hardening again against the flesh of Arthur’s arse. 

“Not as good as the real thing,” Arthur replies, and arches back against him.

They don’t sleep again for hours.

 

 

Entry 7

 **Title:** stone knives and bearskins  
**Warnings:** jealous!Arthur, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, outdoor sex.  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur.

They figure out that they’re lost about three hours in; then it just becomes a matter of deciding whose fault it is.

“You’re the one who said to head east from that last stream,” Arthur says, glaring at Merlin. “I thought you said you knew how to read a map?”

“I thought _you_ said you knew where we were going!” Merlin snaps back at him, tired and damp and already half covered in muck. Camelot is a big forest, and it might have been beautiful except that it was also full of insects, and mudslides, and sharp sticks, and frankly right now he just wants to go home. “You know we’ll never live it down if we get lost out here.”

Arthur stomps off ahead of him without bothering to answer, and Merlin spares a moment to glare daggers at his back before he heaves up his rucksack and sets off again. He’s pretty sure this isn’t the relaxing wilderness retreat the brochure promised. He wonders if they can get their money back.

 

+

 

That evening, they set up camp by a small lake that isn’t on their map, tucked against the lee of a broad hill and surrounded by close-growing trees. Arthur gets the fire going, still without saying anything, and Merlin unpacks their things and hands him the sausages from the icebox to grill over the flames. 

“At least we don’t have to go without our supper,” Merlin says, trying to lighten the mood, but Arthur just grunts, staring into the fire. Merlin sighs. “Arthur. Are you ever going to talk to me about what’s bothering you, or do we have to resort to pictographs and animal noises to communicate now?”

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “You know exactly what’s bothering me.”

“I know you’re being a total prat,” Merlin says. “But that’s not new.”

Arthur looks away. Merlin picks up a stick and draws an erect penis in the dirt, with an arrow pointing to Arthur. _You are such a dick._

Arthur snorts, and snatches up his own stick. His drawing is less articulate than Merlin’s, but he’s pretty sure it’s meant to be a child with big ears and a dummy in its mouth. _Stop being childish,_ Mer _lin._

It’s not exactly scintillating conversation, Merlin supposes. But it’s a start.

 

+

 

The mountains are cold at night. Even sheltered as they are, the chill creeps in on them, and Merlin huddles closer to Arthur in the tent, forehead pressed against the back of his neck, their sleeping-bag-encased bodies squashed messily together. Arthur sighs and pulls away, curling himself into a ball. Outside, it starts to rain.

In the morning, Merlin lies awake for a long time before he realises the tent is empty, and it’s not until he hears a loud splash that he drags himself out into the crisp morning air. The sky has dawned a cruel, clear blue that arches over the lake to the mountains like a closed mouth, and Arthur is bathing in the shallows — gorgeous and golden and completely naked.

It’s one of those moments, Merlin thinks later, which could’ve gone either way: he could’ve taken one look at Arthur and turned back to the tent to give him some privacy, waited until he was dressed to come out. Instead, he stands and looks, eyes shaded. Arthur glances up at him and stops moving, his cock hung low and vulnerable between his legs, watching Merlin watching him. 

Slowly — challengingly — Merlin spits into one hand and slides it down inside his pyjama pants, freeing his morning erection through the opening in his trousers. He doesn’t look away from Arthur as he does it, tipping his head in a question. _You up for this?_

He can see Arthur swallow even from this distance. But he nods, not looking away as Merlin begins to pump unhurriedly into his fist. 

It should probably feel strange, Arthur watching him wank in the middle of nowhere like this, and there’s no denying that Merlin feels completely exposed, even though he’s still partially clothed. Instead of being embarrassed, however, he finds he likes the idea of being the centre of Arthur’s attention. He’s sick of the silent treatment, and trying to get the message across in other ways has thus far proven unsuccessful. Sometimes the most primitive forms of communication work the best. 

Closing his eyes, he imagines Arthur’s hand on him, running a thumb over the tip and down the thick vein on the underside. He can feel the pleasure swelling in his gut, a throbbing pulse in his groin to match his heartbeat, and he allows his head to fall back, letting out a groan that he knows must carry across the water. Arthur makes a choked sound. His eyes are wide when Merlin looks at him, fixed on Merlin’s dick, and Merlin speeds up unconsciously, his breath coming fast and hard as he feels the friction building. Moisture leaks from his slit, wet and slick on his fingers. Arthur is visibly aroused now, and Merlin reaches back with one slippery hand, down past the waistband and into the cleft of his ass, picturing that thick, flushed cock teasing at his entrance before it breaches him. His balls tighten immediately, but it’s Arthur’s animal moan which finally tips him over the edge, and he fucks wildly back onto his own fingers as he comes, his shout sending the birds scattering from the trees.

When he can see again, Arthur is right in front of him, his eyes searching Merlin’s face with something like uncertainty even as he reaches for Merlin’s hips. _Do you want…?_

“Yeah, you idiot,” Merlin says, pulling Arthur in close to kiss his red-bitten lips. Arthur’s palms make wet handprints on his ass even through his pyjama bottoms, but he doesn’t mind. “Of course I do.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Arthur says, dripping lake-water onto his chest as he strips him. “You never did _this_ with Gwaine, did you?”

Merlin laughs. “No,” he says, “I didn’t.” And he sets about demonstrating a few other important omissions as well, until he’s certain Arthur understands exactly what he means – no words required.

 

 

Entry 8

 **Warning/Tags:** Lingerie, Praise Kink  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Tonight was supposed to be about Arthur taking a break, watching a film in his flat, and not stressing about anything. But now, after Merlin had accidently seen what was in Arthur’s sock drawer, it had become a nightmare. Arthur had known that he should have put the lingerie in a drawer where his best friend couldn’t stumble across it while looking for socks because his bloody feet were cold.

An hour later they were sitting in the living room, dead silent when they were usually talking throughout the film. By the time it ended, Arthur had never been more stressed in his life. Relaxing night? Not even close.

“So…um…about earlier….” Merlin shifted on the sofa after the film ended.

Arthur snapped, “You get three questions and then we are never speaking of this again.” 

Merlin nodded and then swallowed. “Er…so… you wear lingerie?”

“Was that your first question?”

“Shit. No. Um…How the hell did you get into wearing lacy panties?”

Arthur glared at him. “No making fun.”

Merlin turned to look Arthur in the eye, and then held up one hand like an oath, “You didn’t tease me when I had a toothbrush up my ass, which was prime joke material. So I swear won’t make fun.”

Arthur remembered driving to the hospital, trying not to laugh while trying not to picture his best friend fingering himself. He had failed on both counts, and had never managed to get over Merlin afterwards. What worried him now was that Merlin could ask knowing questions at the worst of times, and if one secret had been exposed today, Arthur wanted the other to stay hidden.

Arthur cleared his throat, not looking at Merlin while he answered. “I bought the first pair for Sophia… But then she broke up with me before giving it to her… Then it just… happened.”

I.e. he had been drunk, somehow had convinced himself it was payback, and then ended up wanking far too quickly.

Merlin took a while to answer. When he spoke his voice was thick. “So it’s not a kink thing?”

“Er, no. It’s a kink. But it’s not for my partner.” Arthur could feel his entire face burning. “It’s because I like it. For me.”

“Do you wear them all the time? Like right now?”

Arthur was surprised by the question and didn’t know if he wanted to answer. Unfortunately he gave himself away when he squirmed in his seat knowingly, feeling his jeans press the lace to his skin.

“Shit.” Merlin stood suddenly and began to pace. “I can’t deal with this anymore.”

Arthur opened his mouth to ask ‘deal with what?’ but then he looked down to see the odd way Merlin walked and the bulge which caused it.

“Is that because-?” Arthur’s breath hitched, “Merlin.”

“Shut up.” Merlin groaned, “For god’s sake, just shut up. I just sat through an entire film with a hard-on and then you tell me you feel good in lace.”

“You asked!” Arthur squeaked.

Merlin was breathing hard as he leaned against the nearby wall and Arthur was starting to feel the same. No one had ever known Arthur’s secret, and now Merlin wasn’t just okay with it, he was so aroused he was panting. Arthur’s cock swelled, pressing against the panties. “Jesus…” Arthur breathed out and it must have broken something in Merlin. He stalked over to Arthur, pressed him to the back of the sofa and kissed him until Arthur couldn’t string two coherent thoughts together.

“Need to see.” 

Arthur nodded and Merlin thumbed open Arthur’s jeans. Merlin stripped him until he was lying across the couch in just crimson cotton and black lace. Merlin groaned as he pressed loud kisses to Arthur’s chest. “Turn around.”

Arthur obliged easily, leaning against the sofa’s armrest. Merlin’s hands were reverent as his fingers played with the little straps that crisscrossed on the curve of Arthur’s ass and then palmed the lacy opening to his cheeks.

“Gorgeous.” Merlin panted against his spine. “Do you feel pretty?”

Arthur buried his face in his arms, burning up as he said, “Yeah.”

“You feel confident when you wear these, don’t you?”

Arthur squirmed, his cockhead peeking out of the top of the panties, but he didn’t move to touch himself. “Wear ‘em when I need to feel good. After a bad day- When I have a presentation- Fuck!” Merlin pressed a finger- wet with his own mouth- between Arthur’s cheeks.

“When you wank?” Merlin asked, one finger circling and pressing in, and not nearly enough.

“All the time.” Arthur swallowed, taking every bit of courage as he panted out, “Sometimes I think of you.”

“Fuck. Arthur.” Merlin pushed him over, his eyes blazing with determination. Merlin mouthed at the cotton around Arthur’s cock and slid down to where his balls barely fit in the panties. He made the fabric wet and Arthur felt heat spread all across his skin.

“I want you to know how god damn gorgeous I think you are.” Merlin sucked kisses into the cotton, until he finally made his way to Arthur’s exposed skin. He mouthed at the cockhead leisurely, as if Arthur wasn’t already on the tipping point. “Want you to remember how hot you made me just by wearing a little bit of lace.”

Arthur bit into his hand to stop the loud whine escaping his chest. As Merlin’s lips wrapped around the cockhead and his fingers played with the lace, Arthur came and stained all along the panties. Merlin climbed over him, still fully dressed, and straddled Arthur’s thigh. He rutted quickly and without finesse, his breathing obscene as he panted by Arthur’s ear. When Merlin came, it felt like an aftershock of Arthur’s own orgasm as a shiver ran up his spine.

“So gorgeous for me” Merlin mumbled absentmindedly.

“For you.” Arthur repeated, and kissed the happy smile from Merlin’s lips.

 

 

Entry 9

 **Warnings:** Ritual sex, possible hallucinations and mild dub-con in that connection  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

The sun was sinking and all shadows stretched long across the land when they reached the ancient stronghold. 

Camelot was dotted with abandoned and decaying castles, but this place seemed different. An outer fortifying wall had crumbled long ago into a large circular mound of rubble, covered in moss and weeds. The most notable feature of the overgrown ground within the wall was a huge oblong rock, flat like an altar stone. 

A bird cried from the nearby woods, adding an eerie note to the evening stillness.

"What do you think?" Arthur nudged his horse forward. "This doesn't seem like your ordinary fortress."

Merlin looked around warily. "There's a strange, uneasy feeling in the air."

He pointed to an object, half-hidden by long grasses. "Look, the main rock was surrounded by standing stones once, but they're broken in pieces. I wonder if it was done deliberately."

Arthur shrugged. "Well, if there were vandals here, that was centuries ago. It's getting dark. The flat rock provides the best shelter. Let's set up camp."

They went about it with long-practised efficiency - taking care of the horses, lighting a fire, unpacking food and blankets. 

Merlin's eyes were drawn to the altar-shaped rock as the sun's last blood-red rays washed over it. There were shapes and signs carved into the rock, he realized, but erosion had taken its toll. Every line had been worn away by wind and rain. 

Reaching out to trace the edges of one cracked and indistinct shape, Merlin pressed his hand to it firmly. He studied the impression left on his palm. It was a triskelion. 

"Emrys!" The voice that suddenly boomed in his head made him yelp, backing away from the stone in a hurry. "You've come at last!"

"Who are... Did you hear that?" Merlin asked, turning to Arthur.

Arthur shook his head. "Jumping at shadows again, Merlin? There's no-one here, neither living nor dead. And if there were, I'd protect you. Don't be such a girl's petticoat."

Merlin didn't respond. He wanted to roll his eyes, but couldn't keep them open. Arthur slumped down next to him. Both were suddenly fast asleep.

* + * + * 

When Merlin awoke, he was acutely aware of the night sky. The vast black spaces seemed very close, and a multitude of stars wheeled right overhead. Then he realized that he was naked, completely exposed, stretched out on the altar rock. He wanted to move, or to call out, but his limbs were too heavy, and his tongue wouldn't co-operate.

"Arthur!" he thought, frantic. "Where is Arthur?"

In response, a shape loomed up over him, - a tall and imposing male, wearing not a stitch. An impressive set of antlers adorned his head, their compact black shapes discernible against the softer darkness beyond. On his brow there was a glimmer of stars, like a diadem, but his face was lost in shadows.

Merlin felt dizzy and disoriented. The whole world tilted. Looking down, he saw strange blue patterns painted on his own skin. A large triskelion adorned his abdomen. It seemed to be the centre of a veritable vortex of roiling darkness and circling starlight.

The man in front of him leaned in, studying Merlin. He had a powerful, well-muscled physique, and his phallus was fully erect. 

Merlin knew he should feel frightened, but instead an intense thrill of anticipation and desire tore through him, setting him on fire. 

"The ritual of restoration will commence. Are you ready? Are you willing?" the voice in his head asked.

Merlin didn't hesitate. He knew the answer, knew it to be the right one for him, for the fields and forests, for Camelot, for Arthur. 

"I am."

The stranger scaled the rock in one huge leap and sank to his knees, straddling Merlin's thighs. The shadow of his antlers obscured his face. Gripping Merlin's legs, he pushed them up and apart until Merlin's knees nearly met his shoulders. 

Merlin whimpered. He was aroused himself, his body ablaze with the need to be possessed, and he was more than ready. Whatever power had seen to the blue body-paint had also taken care of lubrication. He could feel viscous liquid oozing down the crack of his arse. 

Supporting himself on strong arms and covering Merlin with his body, the stag-man positioned himself. He mounted Merlin in a series of forceful thrusts, grunting with the effort of each one, pushing ever deeper, moving in a rhythm old as time. 

Merlin threw his head back in ecstasy. He had never been more alive. His back was being rubbed raw against the rock, but still he felt only pleasure. He was the centre of the world and all that lies beyond it. Everything danced and swirled around him, in him, above and below him.

Taking hold of his own cock, Merlin brought himself to completion, pulsing come across paint and pale skin just as his otherworldly partner pulled out of him. Angling his phallus just so, he too climaxed in heavy spurts across Merlin's abdomen. Their mingled seed covered the blue triskelion in pearly-white streaks and sticky globs. 

"It is done," Merlin heard himself saying. "The unity of magical and earthly power has been restored."

The stag-man looked up, facing him in triumph. Merlin could see him clearly for the first time. 

It was Arthur.

Merlin's mind went blank.

* + * + * 

When they awoke, it was morning. Merlin was on the ground, rolled in his blanket. Sitting up, he met Arthur's bleary eyes, both of them quickly glancing away.

"Such mad, wild dreams," Arthur muttered. "Something is wrong with this place."

"You too?" Merlin whispered, and blushed. Avoiding further looks or words in Arthur's direction, he stood up, eager to strike camp and get going. But he stopped in his tracks, stunned by the impossibility surrounding them. 

There they were, awash in morning sunlight - seven tall standing stones, unbroken, upright and encircling the two of them and the altar rock. 

And every stone had a triskelion freshly carved into its centre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you can! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the porny entries for week four of the Pornalot fest! 
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/6980.html)

Entry 10

 **Pairing:** Merlin/object.  
**Warnings:** Non-con like whoa, humiliation, evil!Arthur, objectification (kind of). 

Merlin stands by the wall in the small dining room. The people in it are mingling comfortably, chatting and laughing. They’re all dressed impeccably, and Merlin feels the sting of being nothing more than a servant. He used to be the life of the party, but when his dad had died, Merlin and his mum had been forced to sell the huge mansion and he had — humiliatingly enough — been hired on by the new owner as a servant. A servant! It’s the 21st century, for fuck’s sake.

But times are rough and Merlin’s not in a situation where he can scoff at any type of work.

The new owner’s son is the lone host for tonight’s party since his father is out of town. Arthur’s brilliant as always — 25 years old with shiny blond hair, a charming smile and broad shoulders. Merlin might fancy him a bit. Sadly, Arthur never ever gives him any attention unless he stumbles and/or spills something, and even then the only reaction Merlin gets is a derisive snort and a snide comment.

*

When almost everyone has left and only Arthur and his mates are left, they withdraw to the billiards room and Arthur orders Merlin to follow. Without any real choice, Merlin does.

“Ready the table for us, Merlin,” Arthur says and watches Merlin bend down to find the balls in the pockets. But before he can find any, strong arms are pressing him down onto the table.

“Hey…!” he says, but Arthur just tuts at him.

“Shh, Merlin, be a good servant. We just want to play a bit.”

Merlin’s hands are tied together in front of him and he’s pulled forward until his crotch hits the edge of the table. It’s uncomfortable as the rope is fastened somewhere below.

“Mister Pendragon,” he says. “ _Sir_ , please, I’m not…”

He’s cut short by someone pulling down his trousers. Someone else removes his shoes and socks. Slowly and deliberately, Merlin’s stripped naked. He’s embarrassed, sweaty and very very aware of his cock hanging heavily between his legs.

“Sir, look… Arthur, you’ve had your fun. I’ll do my best to…”

“I told you to be quiet.”

“But…”

“Leon, will you give me the rag and silver tape, please?”

And Arthur balls together a white piece of cloth and then forces it into Merlin’s mouth. Then he puts the silver tape over Merlin’s lips and runs it around his head several times to make sure there’s no chance Merlin can remove it.

“Better,” Arthur says and disappears out of sight.

Merlin tries to yell at him, but only a deep, muffled shout is heard.

He can feel his legs being pulled apart and ropes being tied around his ankles and secured. He can’t close his legs anymore, which leaves his arse completely exposed.

“Now that he’s almost naked, you can really see how scrawny he is,” Percy says and runs a hand down Merlin’s spine. “But we should probably get rid of the ugly shirt, too.”

“It’s not ugly! I hand-picked it,” Arthur says, annoyed. “I _had_ to pretty him up. He was awful to look at before.”

Merlin blushes, humiliated by the mean words.

“Scrawny like a baby bird,” Leon says from behind Merlin. “And those ears…”

Gwaine laughs. “The view isn’t too bad from here, actually. I’d love to touch him. May I?”

And there’s a hand on his balls, caressing them with more gentleness than Merlin ever would have expected. He groans involuntarily behind his gag and Arthur laughs.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

There’s a small commotion behind Merlin and Leon cackles loudly.

“Can we really…?”

“Of course,” Arthur replies. “Merlin’s mine to play with, and as long as he can work later, everything’s fine. We’ll just use plenty of lube.”

Someone leaves to go get lube and the others ignore Merlin’s muffled protests. He knows he should be afraid, that he should fight harder, but Gwaine keeps stroking his cock and balls and it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else. It’s been so long since…

Leon bursts into the room again, eagerly brandishing the lube. “Here! Let’s try it.”

Someone lubes up a finger and slowly presses it into Merlin’s tight hole. Merlin pulls the ropes and screams into his gag, but it does nothing besides eliciting excited encouragements to the person fingering the tight hole.

“He likes it,” Percy says. “He clearly wants more.”

“Such a whore, as I knew he would be. Add another.” Arthur’s voice is dark, rough, and Merlin would have killed to hear it like that at a different time.

A second finger is added and they’re pumped in and out few times before Arthur deems it enough.

There’s a beat, and then something blunt and huge is pushing at Merlin’s hole.

“Relax, Merlin” Arthur says, “It’s going in there, so you might as well relax already.”

There are breathless laughs from Leon and Percy, and Gwaine grunts a little bit, like it excites him to see Merlin getting it.

Merlin’s hole slowly opens up under the pressure and suddenly, the object is past his ring and in him. He gasps as Arthur pushes the object even further into his body, pulls it out a little bit and then pushes it back in.

“Do you want to know what it is fucking you, Merlin?” he says. “Do you?”

Someone lets out a deep breath and Merlin can hear the telltale noises of people jerking themselves off.

He shakes his head defiantly at the question and tries to hold the tears back. It makes Arthur laugh.

“It’s the thick end of a cue, love, and it looks so good in you.”

 

 

Entry 11

 **Title:** Lights  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Gwaine  
**Warnings:** none

“That’s it, now look to your left.”

The click of a shutter going, accompanied by the near blinding flash of light, followed the direction.

“Alright.” Gwaine straightened up from his crouch. He lowered the camera from, his face a look of satisfaction crossing it instead.

Across the room Merlin shrugged the silk dressing gown back on over his shoulders, though he made no move to tie it closed.

“Give it over already, I want to see.” Merlin made a grabby motion with his hand, eyes glued on the camera.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Gwaine said with a smirk, waving the camera above this head, as if her were tall enough to keep it out of Merlin’s reach.

“I just want to see them, so I can then get what was promised me.” Merlin sashed towards Gwaine, not stopping until he was chest to chest with Gwaine.

“Oh? And um remind me. What was that again?”

Merlin pokes his tongue out, leaning backwards a touch, before he presses a kiss to the corner of Gwaine’s mouth.

“I think you know.” Merlin makes as if to kiss him again, but at the last second, instead of the kiss he pushes up onto his tiptoes, and in one deft movement liberates the camera from Gwaine’s hand.

“Oi!” The photographer calls, out making a return grab, only for Merlin to skilfully dodge the attack, sticking one arm out and keeping Gwaine trapped at arms length.

Grinning to himself, Merlin flicks the display on cycling through the photographs, all the while making ohs and ahs as he studies his own body captured in all it’s exposed naked glory.

Gwaine stops struggling as he sees Merlin appreciation, crossing his arms and waiting patiently.

Once he’s finished looking Merlin switches the camera off, and taking the strap, all but lays it in Gwaine’s now out stretched palm.

“Finished?” Gwaine quips, raising an eyebrow.

“Not quite.”

Gwaine is just about to ask what he means, when suddenly Merlin’s hands are on him.

The right goes up under his shirt, seeking his nipples and tugging at them, while his left pressed through the fabric of Gwaine’s trousers, striking his already half hard cock to full mast.

Gwaine groans, the sound captured by Merlin’s lips, before he moves his own to repay the attention.

His fingers circle Merlin’s cock, sliding up oh so slowly, feeling a kick of pleasure when he causes Merlin to temporarily lose track of his own rhythm.

They quickly migrate over to the large couch, pushed against the wall, Merlin straddling Gwaine’s hips as he works on removing the hampering trousers.

Once Gwaine is free, don't last long. Too worked up from the photoshoot which had been a purely look and don't touch affair.

As they lie tangled together on the couch, sated pressed flush against each other, Merlin whispers into Gwaine’s neck.

“The photos are wonderful. Thank you.”

 

 

Entry 12

 **Warnings:** none  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin 

"Arthur, no."

Behind Merlin, Arthur _tsk_ s and slides his arms around Merlin's waist anyway, tucking his chin into the crook of Merlin's neck and shoulder. "Come on... It's December 24th. Everybody's still taking the pictures they're going to drop off at the Fotomat."

"I might have customers. They don't need to see you doing... doing that..." Merlin gives an involuntary sigh when Arthur nuzzles behind his ear. "... get in trouble..."

"You won't get in trouble; my dad owns this franchise." Arthur kisses Merlin behind his ear and nuzzles at him again, slow and ticklish, until he can hear Merlin's breath hitch in his chest. 

"That's never stopped me from getting yelled at before."

"Mmn. Sorry?" Arthur kisses Merlin's neck this time, and gets rewarded with a shiver and another small sigh. "You won't get in trouble for this." 

Merlin makes a skeptical little _hmph_ sound, but he doesn't lean away from Arthur and he doesn't push him away. He nestles in against him, close and warm, and tips his head to the side. 

Which is all the invitation Arthur needs. God, he loves this, he loves everything about this, how he and Merlin are pressed up close to each other in the tiny Fotomat booth in the middle of the supermarket parking lot, how warm it is in here compared to the winter evening's darkness and chill outside. How Merlin fits right in against him, how his neck curves at the right angle that Arthur can kiss and kiss him until he knows that Merlin's starting to get hard. How if circumstances were slightly different, the risk of exposure would multiply. 

"Okay, Arthur, that's indecent." 

Arthur draws back, slightly, and keeps his hand on Merlin's prick. He's hard enough that if Arthur kept at it, he could probably get Merlin off right here, right in this tiny booth, hand pressed against Merlin's jeans. He wouldn't even have to unzip the fly, or slide his hand into Merlin's shorts, he'd come all warm and messy in his jeans.

"You don't want to come in here?" Arthur asks and Merlin shivers again. "Okay. Later? In my car? In your bed at home?"

Merlin makes a small sound that half need and half frustration, and all he can do is arch against the hand that Arthur cups gently around his cock. He has his hair longish, curling down to his collar, and Arthur only has to turn his head to bury his face in it. He starts kissing his hair, his neck, his shoulders, until Merlin laughs and pulls Arthur down into a warm, full kiss on the mouth. 

"It's Christmas Eve!" Merlin laughs again. "Come on, drive me home. My mum's at my uncle's house, and your dad won't mind, yeah?"

Arthur shakes his head, and in a moment he's tugging Merlin out into the winter evening. The wind is icy cold and Arthur holds Merlin's hand as tightly as he can, pulls him to the old Dodge his dad lets him drive, and imagines how, in a few minutes, he'll have his hands all over his boyfriend again.

 

 

Entry 13

 **Warnings:** small amount of bad language  
**Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

“Remind me,” Merlin growled. “Why are we hiding in a stable?”

“Your friend Will’s big mouth,” Arthur grumbled. 

“Hmm…” Merlin didn’t sound convinced. “Nothing to do with you never mentioning the small, irrelevant fact that you’re the Prince of fucking Wales?”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t recognise me,” Arthur told him haughtily.

Merlin’s gaze strayed up to Arthur’s dyed brown hair. It had been a great disguise… until the roots started to show through and Merlin’s annoying friend Will noticed.

Since Arthur had come out, four months earlier, the harassment he’d received from the world’s media had been unbearable. Eventually he’d disguised himself and vanished from the world’s gaze. He’d travelled for hours, eventually stopping at a smallholding in a tiny, remote Welsh village.

Merlin sold him strawberries, gave him tea and sandwiches for free, and within an hour had employed him in exchange for bed and board. Merlin didn’t own a TV, didn’t have internet, and didn’t seem to know who Arthur was. 

It was hard, back-breaking work from dawn till dusk and it was perfect. Mostly, if Arthur was honest, Merlin was perfect.

Merlin was sweet and kind and funny, and Arthur never wanted to leave him. He’d worried about Merlin’s friendship with Gwen from the village until she’d turned up with her ridiculously handsome boyfriend to help with the apple harvest. Merlin had caught Arthur’s eye as Lance bent over to pick up a few windfalls. 

“Forget it, he’s straight. Tragic, but we’ll get over it.”

Arthur hadn’t stopped smiling all day. And in the evening they were alone again.

“These are for Mum,” Merlin told him, putting a few apples to one side. “She makes the best apple pie. And you wait till you taste my cider!”

Arthur bit into one of the apples.

“Don’t eat the profits!” Merlin complained. The juice ran down Arthur’s chin, he’d never tasted apples so good. Merlin’s fruit-growing skills were quite magical.

“Just the one,” Arthur wheedled. “We could… share.” He put a certain emphasis on the last word.

Merlin had got his meaning. He’d leaned in and kissed Arthur, his tongue exploring, chasing the sweetness.

“Tastes better on you,” Merlin murmured. 

Arthur’s gaze never left Merlin’s eyes, offering up the fruit. “Let’s see.”

Merlin took a bite, his tongue licking stray juice from Arthur’s fingers before he moved to kiss Arthur again.

“It’s better on you,” Arthur breathed a moment later. “Sweeter.”

And it was. Five glorious weeks of sun, and hard work, and nights rolling together in Merlin’s rickety old bed. Arthur had never been so happy.

Until Will returned to Ealdor, recognised Arthur and tweeted a picture.

Gwen had hidden them in a disused stable behind her father’s pub as soon as the journalists arrived.

“They’ll get bored soon, right?” Merlin asked, peering through a crack in the door. 

“No chance. Right now they’ll be poking their noses into anything they can find. Some of them will be in that pub, trying to get interviews.”

“The chickens need feeding,” Merlin whined. 

“Those chickens have the run of your field. They won’t starve.”

“I need to check the cider.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“You know that? Made a lot of cider in the palace, did you?”

Arthur had drunk plenty. He sighed, then slid his arms around his boyfriend, pressing his lips to Merlin’s neck. “You can’t go out there. Besides, there’s certain advantages to being here.” 

“I’m not shagging you in a stable,” Merlin grumbled, but Arthur knew it was a token protest. It was the same as when he’d insisted ‘I’m not shagging you in a greenhouse’ or ‘while the chickens are watching’ or ‘in the orchard’. The orchard had even got repeat performances. 

Arthur kissed Merlin’s neck, his throat, his mouth. Merlin tasted delicious. “You’re sweeter than any apple,” Arthur breathed, hands wandering down to undo Merlin’s jeans. “So perfect.”

Merlin grumbled and protested, but he was lifting his hips to help Arthur tug the jeans down, and then lying back on the floor, wriggling out of his clothes. His cock sprang up proudly erect as soon as it was freed.

“If someone finds us…” Merlin warned.

“They won’t,” Arthur trailed kisses down Merlin’s chest and groin. “But you need to be quiet.”

Merlin gave a little sigh as Arthur took him in his mouth and began to suck him off. Arthur could feel Merlin’s hands stroking his hair, urging him on. 

“So good, Arthur…” he sighed. “Don’t stop… Oh god, yes… yes…”

Arthur broke off for a moment to shush him, but Merlin just whined at the loss and Arthur went back to his ministrations. A few minutes later Merlin’s hips bucked and thrusted, Arthur swallowing him all down.

Merlin lay back, totally wrecked. 

“Just give me a moment,” he sighed. “Then it’s your turn.”

The day was turning out pretty well after all.

\---

They’d been in the stable for three hours.

“So what now?” Merlin sighed. His hair was ruffled and although he’d made a half-hearted attempt to pull some of his clothes back together he still looked far too tempting. 

“I’ve a few ideas,” Arthur grinned, his hand straying up Merlin’s bare chest. Merlin rolled his eyes, but Arthur could feel his heart beating faster. 

Gwen would feed the chickens. She’d probably look after everything if he offered to make her a duchess or something when he was king. He could take Merlin back to the palace, marry him, keep him forever. 

“You’re plotting something,” Merlin noted suspiciously. 

Arthur shrugged, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s lips. “Nothing. Just thinking you’re going to look great on the stamps.”

“On the what?” Merlin shrieked far, far too loudly.

Outside, there was the sound of footsteps running, voices talking excitedly. Arthur and Merlin only had a moment to stare at each other in horror before the stable door was wrenched open and the camera flashes began.

Forty years later, those first pictures of the king and his consort were still in circulation.

 

 

Entry 14

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

“Merlin?” He hears Arthur ask from the front door. Merlin quickly grabs the tie he bought specifically for this occasion from the closet and hangs it around his neck.

“Just a minute,” he shouts back, hands moving to wind the wider end around the smaller one, to tie the knot the best he can in the short amount of time he has. The result is a far cry from perfect, but it’s the best Merlin can do despite the fact that he’s been practising every time Arthur’s left the house these last few days.

He hears Arthur’s footsteps outside the bedroom door and hurries to push his body against it, making sure that Arthur can’t get in.

“Merlin? What’s going on?” Arthur asks, concerned, when it becomes apparent that Merlin won’t let him open the door. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just give me a minute. Go sit on the sofa and watch the telly or something. I’ll be right out,” Merlin breathes in a rush, tripping over his words. He can’t help it - he’s nervous. It’s the first anniversary of their relationship, and the present he wants to give Arthur… well, it’s something that took a lot of practising and even one week of very secret classes that neither Arthur nor anyone else will ever find out about and he wants it to go perfectly.

Outside the door, Arthur hesitates, probably deliberating whether or not it’s safe to leave Merlin to his own devices, but he finally - _thankfully_ \- decides to go back to the living room.

Merlin is back in front of the wardrobe mirror in an instant, straightening his tie and attempting to get the faux leather shorts to lie _just right_. Once he’s done that, he puts on the bathrobe he’d left on the bed and tiptoes out the door.

For once in his life, it would appear that Arthur did listen to Merlin, as he’s sitting right where he’s supposed to, staring at his phone. Doing his best to keep quiet, Merlin walks into the dining room and grabs a chair. He feels very satisfied with himself when Arthur jumps at the sound of the chair being placed on the floor beside the sofa, phone slipping from his hand to land next to him.

“Sit down, Arthur,” Merlin says, gesturing to the chair with. Arthur furrows his eyebrows and looks at him suspiciously.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he asks, eyes looking Merlin up and down and taking in the presence of the bathrobe. He also refuses to move from the sofa, which is why Merlin takes it upon himself to move Arthur there.

The most he can manage is a small tug before he’s tripping over his own two feet and Arthur has to catch him and drag him upright.

“Just move to the chair,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and glaring down at Arthur. Arthur sighs, but this time, he actually does what Merlin is asking of him.

“What now?” Arthur asks, doing his best to look bored but not quite managing it. He’s curious, Merlin can tell from the way his eyes have lit up.

“Now, you sit there until I tell you you can move,” Merlin replies easily, and without any further ado goes to turn on the speakers. The CD with the song he wants is already in the slot, and all he has to do is to choose it and press the play button for the room to be filled with music.

Merlin throws off the bathrobe, leaving it on the sofa. He walks toward Arthur, swaying his hips seductively.

“What th-” Arthur begins to say when he sees what Merlin is wearing underneath, but Merlin cuts him off by putting his finger to Arthur’s lips.

“Just relax and enjoy the show, love,” he says, removing his finger and putting down his hand. He rolls his hips one more time, enjoying the sight of Arthur’s eyes wandering down to his crotch, before he turns around and bends forward, giving Arthur a glimpse of his arse instead.

The music is picking up now, and Merlin straightens and moves behind Arthur, placing his hands on the back of the chair and bending forward to let his breath ghost over Arthur’s right ear. Arthur shivers, turning to look at Merlin again. Beneath his watchful eyes, Merlin lets one of his hands run down his chest - from his collarbone, tweaking a nipple, and all the way down to his groin. He moves to the front again, spreading Arthur’s legs and moving to kneel between them.

“You can look, but you can’t touch,” Merlin scolds, dancing out of reach when Arthur extends his hand to twine his fingers in Merlin’s hair.

“Tease,” Arthur counters, but he’s smiling and settling back into the chair. Merlin ghosts his fingers up Arthur’s leg, watching with pleasure as Arthur’s muscles tense, then relax at the action. He opens up his own legs in a suggestive manner as he slowly stands up, running his fingers through his own hair. His cock is hard and he’s panting, and from the looks of it, Arthur is in no better a state.

“Now, time for the grand finale,” Merlin whispers, moving to kneel in between Arthur’s legs once again. He reaches out to unzip Arthur’s trousers. “You’re sure to enjoy it.”

 

 

Entry 15

 **Title:** A Revelation  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Morgana  
**Warnings:** None

It started on Merlin’s first day in Camelot, when Morgana mistook him for Gwen and he came close to seeing her getting undressed.

When Morgana came out from behind the screen, she nearly took his breath away. He had never seen a woman so beautiful, so perfect in every way. Her flashing eyes, her white skin, her gorgeous silk dresses, the whole package was totally different from the girls and women he had known in Ealdor.

He had a very satisfying wank that night, thinking about her.

It only got worse as the days went on. He was required to wait on Arthur at feasts and sometimes at family meals with Uther, and he studied Morgana as carefully as he could without giving himself away. 

And after a few weeks, it seemed to him that she was studying him back. And if he wasn’t totally deceiving himself, she was flirting with him.

She would lay a soft hand on his wrist when she asked him to pour him more wine. Her décolletage seemed to dip a fraction of an inch lower every day.

Just a glimpse of the shell of her ear, or a flash of ankle, was enough to make him hard.

He knew that he could never be with her. She was a princess in all but name, and Gwen was sure that Morgana would end up marrying Arthur. She was so far above his station that there was no way they could ever be together, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He was aware that Gaius was treating her for nightmares and restless sleep. Most of the time Gwen took the medicine to her, but late one night when Gwen was off duty Gaius received a message that Morgana couldn’t sleep.

He asked Merlin to take a sleeping potion to her.

Merlin knocked on her door, and heard Morgana’s voice, soft but commanding, saying, “Enter.”

He hesitated on the threshold, uncertain what to do when the room was lit only by a couple of candles and no other servants were present.

Morgana was sitting up in bed, with the covers pulled up to her bare shoulders. She said, “Close the door behind you and bring me the vial.”

Merlin knew that this was a bad idea. If he were smart, he would flee, and find some female servant to deliver the dose. But he found himself walking toward the bed, and when she patted the coverlet and told him to sit down next to her, he did.

“Morgana, I need to leave before…”

He never finished the sentence. She reached for the bottle in his hand and uncorked it, tossing it down and setting it on the table next to her.

To Merlin’s mingled horror and delight, the sheet slipped down and revealed her perfectly formed breasts, firm and white with pinkish-brown nipples.

It was all of Merlin’s wet dreams come true, and he dragged his eyes to hers, asking in an unsteady voice, “Shall I help you get to sleep?”

“Yes, please,” she answered simply.

 

 

Entry 16

 **Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Warnings:** None

“They say King Arthur likes boys,” Cenred says from where he’s standing on the battlements of his castle, watching the delegation from Camelot arrive in the distance.

“Does he?” Merlin says, exchanging a glance with Morgause behind Cenred’s back. She nods.

Cenred turns around to level him with a look. “You know what to do,” he says before heading down to ready the welcome committee.

And Merlin does know what to do. By the time the delegation from Camelot is riding into the courtyard, Merlin has changed into servant clothes and is standing behind Cenred, hands behind his back and head lowered the way servants do. 

Cenred steps forward to welcome King Arthur as soon as he’s dismounted, exchanging pleasantries and polite smiles fit for kings. Merlin remains silent and watches Arthur from beneath his lashes, observing his body language; the way he moves, speaks, and laughs. And the way his eyes stray to Merlin more than once with curious interest while he’s speaking with Cenred.

“And this is Merlin,” Cenred says finally, gesturing to Merlin who takes a step forward before bowing respectfully. “He’ll be your servant throughout your stay here. I hope you’ll find him to your satisfaction.”

Arthur’s smile is warm as he meets Merlin’s eyes head on. “I don’t doubt it.”

-ll-

Seducing King Arthur is easy; he’s perceptive, which means he doesn’t fail to notice how close Merlin leans when he refills his goblet, nor does he miss the way Merlin’s fingers linger when he dresses him. And he certainly notices when Merlin bends down to light the fire or to retrieve something from the floor. Plus, he’s handsome so Merlin’s doesn’t find it hard to let his eyes linger a bit too long when Arthur will catch him doing it.

“King Cenred didn’t make you my servant by chance, did he?” Arthur asks on the evening of the third night after Merlin has asked if there’s any more he requires of him before bedtime.

“No, Sire,” Merlin says, the corners of his lips tilting up into a coy smile. “His majesty thought you might want me as your servant due to certain… qualities I have.”

Arthur arches an amused eyebrow. “Did he?”

“Indeed.” Merlin licks his lips, tilts his head. “He wants to make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible.”

Arthur laughs at that, and with a swift motion, takes off the nightshirt Merlin has just dressed him in. “Come on, then. Show me those qualities of yours.” 

It sounds baiting enough for Merlin to arch an eyebrow. “What would you have me do?”

“I’m thinking stripping would be a good start. Unless you do things different here in Essetir?”

That startles a laugh out of Merlin. “We’re not that different, no,” he says pulling off his neckerchief and kicking off his boots before starting on the rest of his clothes.

“I can see that,” Arthur breathes out when Merlin is completely naked. “Now, come here.” 

Merlin obliges, sauntering over while Arthur watches, eyes tracking every step, enraptured. There’s something empowering in having a king look at Merlin like that, especially someone as handsome as Arthur, and someone who doesn’t know how powerful Merlin really is. He’s simply entranced by Merlin’s beauty and nothing else.

Arthur grabs the back of Merlin’s head as soon as he’s close enough and tugs him down for a scalding, devouring kiss. Merlin groans into it and lets Arthur drag him onto the bed, bodies grinding against each other in search of mindless pleasure. They end up with Merlin on top, riding Arthur’s cock as Arthur has a firm grip on his arse, guiding him up and down. Merlin watches his face intently, thrilled by the deep, helpless sounds from the king beneath him, powerful in a completely human way.

He waits till Arthur spills and collapses back into the pillows, chest heaving, eyes closed in post-coital bliss, before lifting off of Arthur and reaching down beneath the mattress to retrieve the knife he left there earlier. 

Except it’s not there.

“I’m not _that_ stupid,” Arthur says from beside him, lazy.

Merlin turns around to see Arthur watching him with half-lidded eyes. “Worth a try,” Merlin says, shrugging.

“Worst plan _ever_ , actually,” he laughs and pins Merlin beneath him before Merlin can understand what’s happened, strong hands holding his wrists fast in an iron grip. “Tell me, _Emrys_ ,” Arthur breathes into Merlin’s ear, chuckling at the way Merlin stiffens in surprise. “How come an infamous warlock like you has deigned himself to follow Cenred’s orders?” 

“How?” Merlin groans out, breath catching when Arthur shifts to rub his thigh against Merlin’s still hard cock.

“My sister can see the future. Surely the Lady Morgause has told you that?”

Merlin narrows his eyes. “You haven’t called the guards yet,” he states on another groan when Arthur again rubs his thigh against him, triumphant glint in his eyes.

“And you haven’t used your magic yet,” Arthur counters. “Which leads me to believe that King Cenred is not the one whose orders you’re following. And I’m not the king going to be found dead tomorrow.”

“You’re quite perceptive, your majesty,” Merlin admits, lips stretching into a dangerous smirk. “But no, not tomorrow. Later, though. Revenge is a dish best served cold, as they say.”

Arthur laughs outright at that, demeanour changing from predator into something completely boyish and endearing that startles Merlin into allowing the sweet kisses Arthur bestows upon his lips. They’re intimate, dangerous, and Merlin can’t get enough. Arthur rolls his hips, creating delicious friction that has Merlin gasping into his mouth.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Merlin,” Arthur whispers into his cheek as he keeps moving, watching Merlin come undone beneath him with a smug, victorious grin. “There’s this destiny we share. You might not have heard of it, but I promise to tell you all about it later.” Arthur kisses him again, right when Merlin comes. “Though it’s a _great_ one.”

 

 

Entry 17

 **Warnings:** none  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

_I'm doing what’s right._

It was a mantra Merlin had to repeat to himself whenever he questioned what he was doing there.

This was the fourth time he’d thought it today.

A loud clattering sound startled him and he practically jumped out of his skin as he whirled around and found the source of the commotion.

Mordred, another PA (one who frankly looked too young to be watching an adult film, let alone working on the set of one) had dropped one of the overhead lights. 

One of the producers shoved Mordred and warned him to get back to work. They still weren’t finishing preparing for the scene they were shooting today.

Merlin didn't know what was the rush since Arthur’s scene partner Valiant hadn’t arrived.

Thinking of Arthur, Merlin sighed and found his gaze drifting towards the aforementioned man. Arthur was in a corner of the room, adorned in a red silk robe. He was talking animatedly with the film’s director Gwaine.

When Arthur noticed Merlin’s attention on him, he winked at Merlin and shot him a blindingly white smile that had Merlin practically coming in his jeans right there.

Arthur was the main reason Merlin had second thoughts about his objective. 

It sounded so easy and simple and righteous when his friend Will had come to him with the idea. He could expose Uther Pendragon for running a porn studio that regularly bilked his stars and discarded them when he was bored of them - like he had done with Will. Even more interesting was Uther actually using his bastard son Arthur to star in the films.

Merlin would expose him and could sell his story and might finally fulfill his dream of becoming an actual journalist instead of just a blogger.

But then Arthur had to ruin everything. He was infuriating, stubborn, funny, and - the most surprising of all - sweeter than anyone Merlin had ever met. The more Merlin was around him, the more he liked him.

Arthur sauntered over to him. Looking away, Merlin took a deep breath and tried to get his hormones in check. 

Arthur casually leaned against the black armoire that was the only piece in the room beside the King-sized bed. “Merlin, I have a tremendous favor to ask.”

“Wh-what is it?” Merlin sputtered.

“Well, Valiant can’t make it. He apparently has some gastrointestinal issues and can’t really stuff anything up his arse with everything coming out of it...if you know what I mean.”

Merlin held up his hand. “That was a very vivid picture, thank you.”

Arthur grinned. “So, Gwaine and I were talking and we thought it might be a fun idea to take someone from behind the scenes and bring them in front of the camera.”

“Alright.” 

“And that lucky man is you.”

Merlin’s eyes bulged out of his head. “What?”

“Come on. It’ll be fun and probably the easiest 700 pounds you’ll ever make.”

“Arthur, how could you even think that I…700 pounds really?”

Arthur nodded.

Merlin pondered this for a second and then shook his head so hard his headset came down over his nose. He had to rip it off. “Arthur, I am not a porn actor. I would look so awkward and weird.”

Sidling up to Merlin, Arthur brushed a finger down Merlin’s neck. “You wouldn’t with me. I would make you look good and I promise you it’ll feel amazing.”

Merlin gulped.

“It’s just a blowjob scene. What do you have to lose?”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Merlin knew he couldn’t do this. What about his job? What about his ethics? What of his integrity? What if he could be blown by a sex god who could quite easily suck his brains through his cock without breaking a sweat?

That last thought won out.

Almost as soon as he wheezed out the word “yes”, he was whirled away and makeup was applied and his hair was hastily combed. They decided to keep in his civilian clothes to make the scenario that he was a crew member and spontaneously chosen to star in a scene.

It was all happening so quickly and Merlin was in a daze. As soon as Gwaine called out action, Arthur was on him, kissing him with the softest lips imaginable, opening him up, and sucking on his tongue. 

He got down on his knees so quickly, and had Merlin’s jeans open so fast, Merlin could barely blink.

Arthur swallowed him whole and moaned.

Merlin had to grab the armoire for support. He was sure Arthur truly would suck out his brain...and it would be worth it. Who needed a brain anyway?

Arthur pulled off and was licking at Merlin’s slit. He stared up at Merlin.

When Merlin looked down, he was struck by the look in Arthur’s eyes. He didn’t look like he was faking his enthusiasm. He truly looked like he was having a good time and Merlin realized how much he didn’t want this to be a one-time thing.

He pushed at Arthur’s shoulder. “Arthur, stop.”

Arthur wiped his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

Merlin glanced around and pulled Arthur into the adjoining bathroom. “Arthur, I need to tell you the truth. You deserve so much better than what I’m-”

Merlin was cut off and shocked by Arthur’s laugh. 

Arthur touched Merlin’s cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be noble.”

Merlin furrowed his brow.

Arthur leaned in. “I know what you’re doing here, Merlin. I actually read your blog.”

“You’re one of my twenty subscribers?”

Arthur grinned. “Yep. You’re doing a story on my father, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“You haven’t been very subtle with the questions you’ve been asking.”

Merlin hung his head. Oh, God. He looked back up with a quizzical look. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“If you want to expose my father, I am more than happy to lend you a hand...and a mouth.” Arthur waggled his eyebrows. “I thought we could have a little fun while you’re doing it.” 

Merlin chuckled. As Arthur dragged him back into the other room, Merlin had to pat himself on the back. He knew this story was the right idea.

 

 

Entry 18

 **Warnings:** a/b/o, self pleasure (masturbation and anal play), exhibitionism, voyuerism, self lubrication, antiquated society rules, sex for money, omegas for auction, ~~possibly dubcon due to society rules, but consent is more than implied~~  
**Pairing** Merlin/Arthur

“Hello and welcome to the Alpha Mason Lodge, my name is Gwaine. I am the Omega Auction Director and I’ll be your guide this evening.”

The Alpha Mason Lodge is an old establishment where only the best connected families are allowed membership. 

Arthur doesn’t quite know how he ended up here. Well of course the Pendragon name is certainly well connected enough. It’s just that he can’t believe that he actually let his father talk him into this. 

Despite the fact that this is where his father met his mother almost thirty years ago, it all seems a bit antiquated to Arthur now.

Though to be fair, there are few ways to meet a respectable omega that Arthur hasn’t already tried. He has let his friends set him up on blind dates. He’s tried mixers and mating runs. He figures he may as well give this a shot also. If for no other reason than to get his father off of his back about finding a nice omega to settle down with.

“Please follow me.” Gwaine rings a bell and a set of thick, wooden, double doors slowly swing open before them.

Arthur follows the group of alphas through the arched doorway.

“We have five fine omegas for you to view tonight.” Gwaine continues as he leads them down a long hallway. “The catalog you have in your hand will provide a photo and a biography for each omega that you will see this evening.”

They stop and pause again at the next door they come to.

“We would like to remind you that every omega on display in our center is here of their own free will.” Gwaine assures them. 

Arthur nods. Of course The Alpha Masons have a reputation of respectability, but he is relieved to hear it first hand.

“Each one is seeking a mate and has offered themselves up for auction for a specified price. Again, you may review the paperwork you received when you entered to see what each omega has requested as a starting dowry price. If you see an omega that interests you, you may follow the signs to any of our marked exits in order to inquire or make a bid at the service desk.”

Arthur flips through the booklet and notices several other alphas doing the same. The first omega listed, Merlin, is a gangly young man, with fine features, dark hair, sharp cheekbones and too large ears. He’s certainly attractive in a way that Arthur can’t quite put into words. Arthur has to admit that although he is still hesitant, he is definitely intrigued. 

“Remember Alphas, this is a demonstration only. You may look, but you may not touch. If the scent becomes too overwhelming, please remember to utilize the nose-clips that we have provided for you. If at any time you become unruly, my associate, Percival, can and will forcefully remove you from the premises.” Gwaine motions to the back of the room.

As one, the group turns to see a giant of a man standing behind them and even Arthur can’t say when he arrived.

“Now, if you’re ready, we may enter.”

Arthur isn’t prepared for the pheromones that hit him when he steps inside. He holds his breath for just a moment to regain his control. He sees several others clamp a hand over their mouth and nose and at least a couple alphas who decide to go ahead and make use of the nose-clips.

Once he dares to breathe again, Arthur pushes forward until he is met by a velvet-rope barrier mere inches from the boy on display. The rope serves as a reminder of their limitations but allows them in full viewing range of the omega. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greets him.

The omega, _Merlin_ , is laid out on a bed of silken sheets, knees drawn up, exposed for all to see. One hand plays with a pert nipple while the other traces a path down his stomach, until he grasps his small, plump cock, and strokes himself in a slow, measured motion until it starts to grow. 

He arches his back in obvious pleasure and lets out a soft moan as he spreads his legs wider, giving every alpha in the room an unobstructed view.

He slips his hand down and cups his balls tight before he slides even lower to drag one finger over his hole torturously slow. 

His free hand traces a finger over his lips, swirls his tongue around it and sucks it inside his mouth lasciviously.

Arthur is torn between watching the obvious pleasure on Merlin’s face and the way his fingertip presses himself open, his natural slick easing the way.

With each press of his finger in and out, Arthur can see him getting wetter. Slick shining against his pale skin.

The next time he chances a glance at Merlin’s face their eyes meet.

Arthur stares openly, taking in every detail. He squeezes his hands into tight fists, barely breathing as he reminds himself that he isn’t allowed any closer. 

Merlin rolls onto his stomach, pausing for only a moment as he shifts his knees up under him. He falls forward onto his shoulders, his face pressing into the soft mattress. He bites down on a pillow and traces a teasing circle over his tiny pink hole.

One hand reaches beneath him, slowly stroking his dick, as the other extends further behind him, pushing two fingers deep into himself as his rim stretches obscenely around them. 

He moves slow, a strangled little whimper escaping him each time he breaches the tight ring of muscle. 

Slick drips out of him, soaking his fingers and sliding down his thighs as he fucks himself with first two, then three fingers. 

Merlin rocks back on his knees as he jams his fingers in as deep as he can go.

Arthur can tell it’s not enough— the awkward tilt of his hips works against him until he finally shifts just right and pounds his fingers into his ass at just the right angle.

The squelching sound as they thrust in and out drives Arthur mad with want. He’s so lost in thought imagining the variety of ways he’d like to touch— fuck— and taste the omega that the ragged cry Merlin makes when he comes catches Arthur completely off guard.

He watches helplessly as Merlin’s hole squeezes impossibly tighter around his fingers and ropes of come paint the silky sheets beneath him.

Arthur has no need to see any of the other omegas on offer. He has already made up his mind. Merlin is the only omega that will satisfy him. 

He exits the room prepared to do whatever it takes to far exceed any counter offers other alphas may place on Merlin’s dowry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you can! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the porny entries for week four of the Pornalot fest! 
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/6980.html)

Entry 19

 **Warning/Notes:** Nude Merls is nude  
**Summary:** A magazine cover

Entry 20 

**Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Summary:** Arthur had always treasured it back then and he treasures it in this century all over again - the way this amazing man, this powerful warlock, his wonderful Merlin exposes his soul and body to him, all for Arthur to cherish and worship. And worshipping it Arthur will, in this century as much as he had done back then. 

[](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/tracionn/24105297/82217/82217_original.jpg)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you can!


End file.
